


after hours

by orphan_account



Category: Polygon/McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 13:32:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14082027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Maybe Pat should’ve surrendered to this boy’s charm the first outreached handshake and hello. Perhaps that could’ve saved him some trouble.





	after hours

**Author's Note:**

> i just needed to get this out of my system sorry god

When he heard that they were going to have a new video producer at Polygon, Pat didn’t really know what to expect-- and really, in hindsight, Pat can’t possibly have had prepared himself for Brian David Gilbert. Really, how could he have? Bright smiles, dorky laughs, and kind eyes aren’t an unheard of weakness and Brian happens to be a package. Maybe Pat Gill should’ve surrendered to this boy’s charm the first outreached handshake and hello. Perhaps that could’ve saved him some trouble.

 

“Oh, hey.” Pat jumped-- he’s usually the only one still at the office at these hours and didn’t often find co-worker’s heads poking into the streaming room. Not to mention faces like Brian’s. “Didn’t think you’d still be here,” the boy smiled, not unkindly. Pat didn’t know much about Brian-- most of it just stuff he’s heard from Simone (youtube channel, singer, etc.), and while Brian seemed nice and all, wariness wore at Pat’s mind in waves. There’s still that anxiety from being around close-to-strangers that has never gone away for Patrick, even when many his age and in this sort of career have grown out of it. That sort of thick skin just seemed to never fit on him too snugly.

Pat rubbed the nape of his neck. “Uh, yeah. Just working on some stuff right now-- some stream ideas-” he typed a couple of words onto a Google Doc labeled FUTURE SHIT before exiting quickly out of it, “- stuff like that.”

“Oh, really?”

Pat grunted, nodding.

A beat passes. One un-noted yet all the same glaringly obvious to anyone involved. Sweat develops in a film over Pat’s hands, as he’s just thinking of something to say, something to just fucking get over this very, very poor interaction over with and 

“Couldn’t wait to get that work done, huh?” Brian gave a slight grin, the sight of utmost cool save for his hand fidgeting over the buckle of one of his watches. “I was just checking into, uh, see if I left anything behind.” The boy scanned the room, eyes taking in what Pat just assumes is 1 (one) very unnerved coworker, the computer, a green screen, and a couple of offline mics. “Well, doesn’t seem like I did.” He pursed his lips, his eyes narrowing for just a second before immediately brightening. “I’m just gonna head out now, well, see you tomorrow!”

Pat nodded, his mind racking up all these things to say and his voice having none of it. Pat thanked whatever ethereal forces when Brian took the nod as a farewell and walked out of the room and inadvertently, delivering Pat salvation until,

Something happened.

Just as when Pat turned his attention to unfinished work, Brian poked his head into the doorway, scaring Pat a second time. His face was almost apologetic: furrowed brows, teeth worrying the bottom lip, and hand unceasingly trying to smooth the fray of his hair.

“I’m sorry, I lied. I, uh, actually was meaning to use this room to play some Mario Odyssey for a bit before I commute back to Brooklyn.” He chuckled, a bit nervously. “Is it alright if I stay in here for an hour or so?” He licked his lips. “I just want to cool my nerves before getting back.”

Several thoughts crossed Patrick’s mind at once, one being a strong feeling of agreement-- that yeah, his cat and his apartment is cool and all, but there’s just something about the quiet workrooms and offices after everyone has gone that is just so appealing. Not to mention the fact that he practically has access to Polygon’s consoles and high definition TV’s: one of the many strengths of working at a video game journalism company. 

The second thought was him finally noticing how absolutely exhausted Brian looks. Usually, he looked a bit more chipper the times Pat has worked with him but now his face was just dark circles under eyes, and a worn down smile.

So, those two ideas were exactly why Pat decided to agree on Brian entering what’s supposed to be Patrick Gill’s little bubble.

At first, the presence of someone there was uncomfortable, but Brian seemed to understand what Pat really needed at the moment. The two both left each other in silence-- the sound of air vents and the Mario Odyssey soundtrack playing ambiently in the background.

This sort of interaction would happen once a week or so: Pat Gill trying (and half of the time) failing to work, and Brian making himself cozy on the couch.

What seemed like was a minor annoyance turned to comfortable ease, and Brian David Gilbert not being there taking up space on the couch on afternoons Pat was there became almost unnerving. Eventually, Pat took up space on the couch beside him, looking up from Twitter occasionally to watch Brian attempt on playing whatever was Brian’s selected game of the week. Some question or two from Brian would turn into full-blown conversations about funny college stories and weird, relatable instances about their cats. 

So, it became a thing between the two of them. Brian and Pat. Pat and Brian. In the streaming room after hours. They never seemed to mention it to other coworkers, as if them hanging out together and cracking jokes and them becoming friends in that one streaming room was a secret. As if Pat didn’t secretly feel disappointed the days that Brian didn’t show up, and as Pat hoped, vice versa.

 

Sometimes, there would be less than comfortable moments with Brian. Not like, the same awkward, bad anxious feeling that would wash over Pat in waves during bad social interactions. Debatably, maybe what he would get with Brian is worse.

Like, he swore one minute he was just organizing shit on his laptop while Brian effortlessly tended to his Stardew Valley farm. But maybe, his afternoon coffee had worn off plenty by now. And maybe, goddamnit, Brian’s singing voice was a bit too relaxing, and actually, quite very, very nice. Long story short, he found his head resting nicely/horrifyingly on the shoulder of his coworker.

The first, sleep-fogged thought was just. _This is nice. This is great. This is actually_ soooo _comfortable right now that really, moving sounds like a terrible idea._ And the second being _Huh. Brian smells really nice._

Of course, that sort of grogginess fades eventually, resulting in Pat’s head whipping up almost as if Brian’s very comfy shoulder scorched him, his face hot.

Brian only looked at him for a second, smiling to himself a bit (that smug bastard), before turning his attention back to the game. “Mornin’, Patrick. How was the nap?”

Pat choked, his hands grabbing at his knees and his face screwing up. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea that I was that tired. You should’ve woken me up.”

Brian laughed at that. “Nah, it’s no problem.” His face was illuminated by the bright screen of the TV, and Pat could see small freckles he wasn’t able to notice in normal office lighting. His eyes followed his character on the screen, and Pat got the impression he was avoiding eye contact. “Really, I would be honored to serve as your pillow anytime.” He gave a grin, and Pat scanned his face for any insincerity, any sarcasm or weirdly malicious sentiment in the younger’s eyes, but he found none. Just a friendly smile, and Pat noticed faintly, a slight blush.

Huh.

 

Apparently, Brian is one to hold true to his word, because that instance didn’t become the only one where Brian was used as a pillow. 

It was after hours again, and snow seemed to be a cruel, and unforgiving mistress to the two of them, leaving them snowed in.

It wasn’t much different from any other day when Pat decided to stay in, so he didn’t mind much. And recently, he found himself racking his brain to find any excuses to hang out with Brian-- a new stream series, maybe a new bar he hasn’t been to yet and wanted to scope out with a friend. Really, anything just so he could listen to Brian ramble about excitedly for a while. It’s sort of getting ridiculous.

So when Brian and Pat both peeped through the blinds, looking into the snowy streets of Manhattan, all Pat could find himself saying was “Oh, darn. That- that really sucks.”

“Yeah…” Brian tutted. “Well, maybe I could finally finish that level I’ve been stuck on.” He didn’t sound too disappointed, and Pat was inclined to agree.

 

What Pat and Brian thought would just be 40 minutes turned into a couple of hours snowed in, and those fantastic conversations about anything that usually kept Pat awake didn’t fit the at-ease, comfortably silent air.

“Hey, Brian?”

“Hm?” The other hit pause.

“Could you wake me up when the storm’s over if I slept on your shoulder?” It took Pat awhile to get the words out, but once he did, he felt proud at not stumbling over them

Brian’s eyes widened, and the sound of his character dying GAME OVER filled the air. “Oh, uh, yeah, of course, Pat. Go ahead.” Another GAME OVER screen. Brian started speaking hurriedly. “What are friends for? What are friends for if not for being friendship pillows for each other? And y’know, that’s exactly what we are, co-workers and friends. Partners, one may say, or should I say Pat-ners-”

“I’m going to sleep now,” Pat interrupted, knowing that once Brian started nervously rambling it probably wouldn’t stop in time for him to get any sleep.

He lowered his head down on Brian’s shoulder and was met with the comforting smell from last time (fresh laundry and just utterly  _ Brian _ ) and closed his eyes, willing sleep to come.

Five minutes later, Brian said, “Uh, if you want, you could rest your head on my lap.” His voice was unusually small. Pat blinked, not daring to turn his eyes to Brian’s only because he knows he wouldn’t be able to sustain eye contact. Heat rushed his face.

“Yeah,” Pat coughed. “Okay.” And so he did. 

10 minutes later, Pat just accepted that he really couldn’t get himself to fall asleep. Something about laying his head down in the lap of someone as radiant and attractive as Brian got his mind racing. Instead, he listened to Brian sing quietly under his breath and pretended to sleep for 20 minutes.

“Hey, Pat?”

“Huh?” He faked grogginess.

“The storm’s over,” Brian’s voice tiny and oddly breathless. Pat opened his eyes, met with the younger’s face looking down on him. He could count the eyelashes at this amount of distance if Pat really wanted to, and there was the same pink flush on Brian’s visage from before.

He couldn’t stop himself from staring, and apparently, it was the same for Brian because they just sat there, looking at each other in silence.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Pat replied back, his voice rough.

“I have a question.”

“Shit, wait, I have one too.”

Brian’s brows pulled together, his face curious.

“Can I kiss you?”

Brian reeled, his eyes wide. “I, uh, sure? Uh, yes,” and Pat grabbed the denim collar of Brian’s jacket, reveling in the rough fabric, before pulling Brian down to meet halfway. Brian gasped against Pat’s lips. Their teeth clinked, but really Pat couldn’t care less. Instead, he smiled against the other’s lips, this giddy energy doing him better than any cup of coffee.

Eventually, they pulled away from each other, for breath, and Pat stared into Brian’s blown pupils, widened eyes.

“Can I ask my question now?”

Pat laughed. “Yeah, shoot.”

“Do you wanna go get a drink with me right now?” Brian smiled shyly. “There’s a new place that opened not too far away.”

Pat grinned. “That sounds great.”


End file.
